Immortality and Cultivation: I can extract entries from all things.

Several months later.

Fang He squatted down by the spirit field, checking the growth of a green Ganoderma.

This Ganoderma lucidum was planted by Master Wu Dan before his death. It has a thick root system, thick leaves, and is already about three inches tall.

In two more months, it will be ready to be used in medicine.

Su Yun'er came over from the pharmacy, carrying a pot of water in her hand.

"Master Fang, it's time to water the Ganoderma lucidum."

Fang He took the watering can and poured a few drops.

The spirit field is not large, only two or three-tenths of an acre, and is planted with a dozen or so commonly used spirit herbs.

These medicinal herbs are inexpensive and easy to grow, making them the main source of daily consumption for pharmacies.

Su Yun'er stood aside, watching him busy.

After a moment of silence, she said softly, "There are guests over there, I'll go back first."

"Go."

Su Yun'er turned around and walked back, her steps light and quick.

Fang He continued to take care of Lingtian.

The early summer sun wasn't too harsh; it felt warm and cozy on my skin.

A salty, fishy smell wafted from the sea breeze in the distance, mixed with the scent of mud and grass.

He stood up and patted the dirt off his knees.

I heard the sound of a cane tapping on the ground behind me.

"Xiao Fang."

Fang He turned around and saw Old Man Lin slowly walking towards her, leaning on his cane.

The old man looked older than usual, with prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes, and he had to rest after walking a few steps.

"Uncle Lin."

Fang He went up to her, "What brings you here today?"

Old Man Lin waved his hand and sat down on the edge of the field.

He took a few breaths before slowly speaking.

"Xiao Fang, I'm leaving."

Fang He was stunned.

"Go?" he repeated, "Where to?"

"Going back to my hometown."

Looking at the distant sea, Old Man Lin said calmly, "I'm getting old and want to go back to live out my remaining years in peace. I've stayed on Qing'ao Island for over thirty years, it's time to leave."

Fang He remained silent.

He had seen the fate of many rogue cultivators.

When one's cultivation reaches its limit and resources are exhausted, one will have no one to rely on in old age.

Those who can return to their hometowns are considered fortunate.

Those who cannot return can only wait to die on this island.

At Old Man Lin's age, his cultivation has long since stagnated; if he continues to stay, he will only be prolonging his life.

but……

Fang He felt a strange mix of emotions.

Old Man Lin is a good man.

For the past three months, the old man has often given him guidance on the art of cultivating spiritual plants.

When to water, when to fertilize, which medicinal herbs prefer shade, and which medicinal herbs tolerate sun.

These details cannot be learned from books; they are passed down orally from the elders.

"When are you leaving?" Fang He asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Tomorrow," Old Man Lin turned to look at him, "I came today to say goodbye."

He pulled a yellowed booklet from his pocket and handed it to him.

"This contains my life's experience in cultivating plants, from seed selection and sowing to pest and disease control."

The old man paused for a moment, then said, "You've taken care of this old man for three months, kept me company, and that's enough. This book... is for you."

Fang He took the booklet.

It felt heavy when I picked it up, the cover was badly worn, and the edges were frayed.

He flipped through a few pages and saw dense text and hand-drawn illustrations of spiritual plants.

Although the lines are rough, they clearly mark the characteristics, habits, and planting points of each medicinal herb.

"You...this is too precious." Fang He gripped the booklet tightly, her throat tightening.

This is the culmination of the old man's life's work.

A rogue cultivator, without a master or resources, relied entirely on his own exploration.

He spent his entire life cultivating and selling spiritual herbs, and all his experience was recorded in this booklet. Now the old man has entrusted it to me; this trust is as heavy as a mountain.

"What's so valuable about it?"

Old Man Lin waved his hand, "At my age, it's useless to me. If you need it, take it."

"Uncle Lin..."

"Stop being so wishy-washy."

The old man glared at him, but his tone was tinged with amusement. "I'm not going to die, I'm just going back to my hometown to retire. You're making it sound like I'm not coming back."

Fang He forced a smile.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say.

Old Man Lin stood up and patted him on the shoulder.

"Work hard. If you're so capable, don't end up like me, wasting my life on this island at my age."

The old man turned around and slowly walked back.

Among independent cultivators, crying and wailing are not acceptable.

"Uncle Lin!"

Zhao Haisheng's voice came from afar.

Fang He turned her head and saw Zhao Haisheng carrying a small wine jar, running quickly towards her.

He ran up to Old Man Lin, panting heavily.

"You're leaving? Why didn't you say so earlier!"

Old Man Lin laughed: "He's gone, so there's no need to bother everyone."

"That won't do." Zhao Haisheng shoved the wine jar into the old man's hand, his eyes reddening. "This is spirit rice wine brewed by my father. Drink it on the road, don't complain about its inferior quality."

"You rascal, still the same as ever." Old Man Lin took the wine jar and patted Zhao Haisheng's arm.

"Hehe." Zhao Haisheng grinned, but as he laughed, tears almost welled up in his eyes. He quickly turned his head and wiped them with his sleeve.

"Uncle Lin, please take care."

"Take care of yourself."

The three of them stood by the spirit field and chatted briefly.

We reminisced about our time on Qing'ao Island, talked about recent changes, and discussed future plans. It was the same old stuff, but we talked for a long time.

"Uncle Lin, where is your hometown?" Zhao Haisheng asked.

"To the south, in the coastal prefecture."

Old Lin gazed into the distance, "I ventured out into the world when I was young, and more than forty years have passed in the blink of an eye. I wonder if I still have any acquaintances there."

"Of course there will be," Zhao Haisheng said. "With your great abilities, you'll definitely have someone to take care of you when you go back."

"Thank you for your kind words." Old Man Lin smiled.

Fang He stood to the side, listening silently.

He had heard of Linhai County.

It's a small town in the south, not too far from Qing'ao Island; it takes three to five days by boat. If Old Man Lin can return safely and spend his remaining years in peace, it would be a good ending for him.

"Xiao Fang," Old Man Lin suddenly called out to him.

"Um?"

"If you have the chance in the future, remember to visit this old man." The old man looked at him with gentle eyes, "I'll treat you to a drink."

Fang He nodded: "Okay."

He knew he should just take those words with a grain of salt. Wandering cultivators had no fixed abode, and they didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Going to Linhai County was no easy feat; not only was the journey long, but the boat and travel expenses alone would be a considerable expense.

But if the old man is willing to talk, then he is willing to respond.

"Alright, go back now." Old Lin waved his hand. "We have to get up early tomorrow."

He leaned on his cane and slowly walked towards his hut.

Zhao Haisheng watched the old man's retreating figure and took a deep sniff.

"Brother Fang, do you think... we'll ever meet again in this lifetime?"

Fang He remained silent for a moment.

"have no idea."

He gripped the notebook tightly, turned around, and walked back.

Behind him, Zhao Haisheng paused for a moment, then followed.

-----------------

The next morning, as dawn broke.

When Fang He arrived at the dock, a thin layer of mist still shrouded the sea.

A small seagoing vessel was moored at the dock.

The ship's hull is mottled and looks quite old.

Several monks carried luggage onto the ship, their shouts echoing throughout.

Old Lin carried an old cloth bag on his back, leaned on a cane, and walked unsteadily toward the boat.

Zhao Haisheng helped set up the luggage at the side of the boat.

He turned around and looked around, his eyes searching for something.

Fang He saw Old Man Lin's face.

The old man was also looking at him.

Their eyes met, even though they were several dozen feet apart.

Fang He recalled what the old man had said yesterday.

"If you have the chance in the future, remember to visit this old man."

He didn't move.

It's not that I don't want to get close, it's that I know the elderly don't like that kind of thing.

The elderly want to leave this world cleanly and neatly, not with tears and wailing.

Old Man Lin raised his hand and waved it gently.

Fang He raised her hand and nodded slightly.

No words were spoken.

The scene from three months ago came to mind.

At that time, he had just taken over Master Wu's spiritual field and knew nothing about it.

Old Man Lin came over and guided him to identify the medicinal herbs, telling him which ones were old plants, which ones were newly planted, which ones liked water, and which ones were drought-resistant.

The old man didn't talk much, but every word he uttered was valuable.

Occasionally, the two would sit on the edge of the field and chat.

Old Lin recounted his adventures in his youth, told stories of strange tales in the world of cultivation, and spoke of his deceased old friends.

At such times, the old man's gaze would drift into the distance, as if lost in memories.

"In this life, you can't make many true friends." An old man once said, "Xiao Fang, you and I are destined to meet."

Fang He just smiled and didn't take it to heart.

Looking back now, every word was spoken from the heart.

The sea breeze is getting colder.

Fang He wrapped her outer robe tighter and turned to leave.

He knew that the island had lost another person he could talk to.

He gripped the notebook of spiritual plants in his hand even tighter.